Sparring Partners
by Sheyrena Wyrsabane
Summary: Knocking punching bags off their chains gets old after a while, and Steve needs to fight something that can fight him back. Thor/Steve friendship.


A particularly hard hit sent the punching bag off its chains and skittering toward the far wall, sand trailing behind it. Steve wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrapped hand and went to retrieve a new punching bag.

They should be more durable he thought, wrapping his arms all the way around the sand filled cylinder. He knew that he was a super soldier, enhanced beyond normal human capabilities, but he should at least have a punching bag that could handle his strength. How was he supposed to train if the equipment constantly broke?

A few rounds with a punching bag was better than the time he tried to go to the gym. He maxed out all the weights and still didn't get more than a warm-up out of his lifting. It was another unnecessary reminder that he didn't fit in in this world. Earth was made for humans, and while he might have been one once, many years ago, he certainly wasn't one now.

Had Earth always been so unwelcoming to him? His memory of being Captain America during World War II was a blur of motion. He had been running from one place to the next, protecting those he loved, fighting Hydra, and trying to stay one step ahead of Schmidt. Maybe he had never fit in, and he just didn't realize it until now, when everything had slowed down.

He clipped the punching bag into place and gave it a hard hit, wishing it was his face he was beating in instead of leather. Why was he so ungrateful? He was alive, he was fighting to protect his country and his world, and that was all he had ever wanted. The skinny human he used to be had wanted to join the war effort more than anything else. It was why he'd been experimented on in the first place.

That wasn't the kind of decision that one could simply reverse, and regret wouldn't get him anywhere either. This was who he was now. He needed to accept it.

But mostly, he needed to stop thinking.

Steve began to rain a barrage of punches on the bag, not caring that they weren't proper form and that the bag was swinging wildly, threatening to knock him over if he didn't move out of the way in time. He wanted to move until he was too exhausted to think. He was tired of thinking.

Sweat was soaking into his shirt and dripping down between his eyes. He pushed himself harder, relishing the feeling of actually doing something. He started to grunt as he hit the bag, letting his emotions and his strength pour out of him as he abused the training equipment.

With a particularly loud cry, he sent the bag flying off its ring and across the room. There was no satisfying thud as it hit the ground, only a surprise 'oof' as a visitor barely got his arms up to catch the flying bag in time.

Thor stumbled as the object crashed into him but managed to stay on his feet. He wouldn't be much of a demi-god if he let such a puny object knock him over. He tossed the offending object to the ground and looked up to see Steve watching him.

"Sorry," Steve said. "I didn't see you there."

"You were concentrating very hard," Thor said.

Steve shrugged and picked up the next bag. He wasn't in the mood for talking. He was about to clip it into place, when a large warm hand settled over his, making him pause. Thor was suddenly in his personal space and guiding the bag back down to the ground.

"These are too fragile to be satisfying," Thor said. "I know the feeling. Often times, back in Agard, hunts would give me little pleasure. What could really stand up to the god of Thunder? I suppose that is why Loki and I fought so much. We were not equals, but he was more of a challenge then horned stags."

Loki was still a touchy subject with most of the Avengers, what with him trying to destroy the Earth and all, but Steve couldn't help his sympathy at the pain in Thor's eyes whenever his not-brother was mentioned. When the others fought Loki, they saw him only as a threat to be neutralized, granted a very powerful threat. Thor saw him as a childhood companion and a former friend.

But Steve wasn't in the sparring room to reminisce about the past. He was here to forget about it. He shook off Thor's hand.

"They're all I've got," he said, reaching for the bag again. "It's not like I can get into the ring and go a few rounds with anyone. Maybe if I signed up with a demolition company they would let me punch walls down."

"Why so eager to fight?"

"I'm a soldier." Steve clipped the bag into place. "I need to be ready in case my country needs me."

"You will always be ready. Your muscles will not disappear if they're not exercised."

Just what he needed, another reminder that he wasn't human. That he was some freak experiment. Steve brought his hands up and looked over at Thor. "You might want to watch out. Don't want you getting hit again."

Thor shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt me if you did. You're not the only indestructible around here."

There was something Steve recognized in Thor's voice. It was a mixture of pain, regret, and longing. The knowledge that you were so totally alien from everything around you but that you were supposed to be grateful for it.

For the first time since Thor walked in, Steve really looked at him. He had abandoned his armor for a pair of casual work out pants and a t-shirt that strained against his chest and biceps. His hammer was nowhere in sight. As he thought about it, Steve realized he hadn't seen Mjolnir in days. Had Thor gotten sloppy and stopped carrying it around?

Or was it something else?

Steve had never made a habit of carrying his shield everywhere, but he hadn't been wearing his uniform or carrying his shield around almost at all recently. They were more reminders of what he was. And what he wasn't. In his dress khakis and white t-shirt he could pretend for a few moments that he was human. That he was normal. Maybe that was why Thor was without his hammer. It allowed him to feel for a moment that he wasn't a demi-god in possession of magical weapons. He was just a regular guy.

Steve dropped his hands. "It's why I hate Tony sometimes. As Iron Man, he's on our level. He can fly, he can blow things up, and he can take a beating. But at the end of the day, he can climb out of his suit, and he can be like everyone else."

Thor laughed, a slow rumble deep in his chest. "I suggest not telling Tony that you believe him to be like everyone else. It would cause great offense and possibly a drinking and womanizing binge that the world is not prepared for."

Steve cracked a smile. "The world will never be prepared for Tony Stark. But you know what I mean. Even Bruce can pass as long as he keeps his temper down. We can't turn our superpowers on and off."

"It is a blessing and a curse," Thor said. His words were completely sincere, but Steve couldn't help but feel like he was watching a really bad anime. A blessing and a curse? Who even said things like that?

"You would never have been able to protect your world without it," Thor said, apparently not done. "You have saved it twice, and I do not doubt that we will be called on again in the future. Would you really give this up to be normal?"

Steve thought back to his days as the scrawny kid in Brooklyn, getting beat up in alleys next to movie theaters. He thought about all the war movies he saw, how he hadn't recognized them for what they were. Propaganda. Recruitment tools. He had been sucked into the war machine, and it had turned him into this.

He looked down at his hands, wrapped in white gauze to protect him from tearing up his hands when he hit the bag. Why did he need the protection? He had super advanced healing. A couple scrapes weren't going to hurt him. He tore the gauze off. He wanted to bleed. He wanted to feel something, if even for a moment.

"You really should back up," Steve said as the gauze drifted down to the floor.

He didn't wait to see if Thor listened before beginning to hit the bag again. His protection had been thin, but there was something about hitting the leather with his bare skin that felt different. Freeing. He hit harder, jerking the bag forward then to the left then forward again. It danced for him, and he was pulling back for a punch that would certainly knock it off when something caught his fist.

Thor stepped between him and the back and backed Steve up, still holding his fist.

"This is madness," Thor said, looking over Steve's hand. The skin had cracked and begun to bleed. Sweat made the wound sting, but Steve didn't care. He only cared that he'd been interrupted. No one interrupted his workouts.

"Director Fury would be displeased to find out that you're interfering with my training," Steve said.

Thor raised his eyebrows. "You would tell on me? How childish. You are purposefully hurting yourself and that bag stands no chance against you. There is no point to what you are doing."

"It makes me feel better," Steve said, hating how vulnerable, how needy he sounded. Thor was right, he was a child. It was disgusting.

"It makes you feel better?" Thor asked. He shook his head and threw Steve's arm down. "I was told you were an honorable man."

Steve bristled at Thor's implication that he had no honor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Thor flicked his eyes over to the other man, feigning boredom. "You were selected for the experiment, because you were not a bully; yet, you come here every day and fight what cannot fight you back. You unleash your anger on something that stands no chance against you."

"They're punching bags," Steve said, torn between laughing at Thor for being an idiot and punching him for insinuating that Steve was a bully. "They're inanimate objects."

"Does it make you feel powerful?" Thor asked, ignoring Steve's response. "Do you feel proud each time you knock one off the chains? It must take a very strong man to do what you do."

Before Steve's mind registered what he was doing, he had grabbed two fistfuls of Thor's shirt and pulled the man off the ground. Realizing what he had just done, Steve put Thor back on the ground, his hands shaking with the effort it took to control himself.

"Get out," Steve said. He knew that Thor was a demi-god, the heir to the throne of Asgard so he was prone to being overbearing sometimes, but he had never been hostile to Steve before. Tony Stark? Of course. Tony got under everyone's skin, but Steve and Thor had never fought.

"And leave you to your punching bags?" Thor asked. "Right, why would you challenge yourself with a real fight when you can get the thrills of an easy victory?"

Thor turned his back to Steve to walk away, and that was the last straw. A growl was Steve's only warning before he leapt at Thor. The god, sensing what was happening, turned into Steve's assault and started falling before Steve hit him so they rolled to the ground.

Both men leapt to their feet, beginning to circle each other. Steve was aware, somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn't be doing this. They were teammates, on the same side. They shouldn't be fighting each other. Fighting meant a lack of trust, and a unit had to trust each other or they were compromised.

His army training flew straight out of his head when Thor had the gall to smirk at him. "What, you're only willing to attack a foe when his back is turned? Did you lose your honor in the seventy years you slept?"

Steve charged, his speed catching Thor off-guard, and he head-butted Thor, sending them to the ground. Thor grabbed Steve's shoulders and easily tossed him off. Steve twisted his body in the air so he landed on his feet, and he was running at Thor again as soon as he was on the ground.

Steve swung and Thor caught his fist, twisting his arm behind his back. Steve's foot slammed down on Thor's foot and the god bellowed a curse before shoving Steve away. They exchanged blows, neither gaining an advantage as sweat soaked through their clothes and their breathing began to get heavy.

Steve attacked with a blind rage, using years of training and his strength to land hits and stay standing when Thor's fists connected with him. It felt so satisfying for his hands to land on flesh, for his fists to slide on slick skin, for his target to react to his hits. Every grunt, every small puff of air Thor exhaled when Steve made contact made Steve grin.

He was going in for a punch to the gut that would drop Thor to the ground, when Thor grabbed Steve's wrist and his hip and lifted him with ease over his head before tossing him to the other side of the room. Steve got to his feet, slower than the first few times that he'd been thrown, but his smile hadn't been wiped off.

As good as it felt to hit Thor, it felt even better to be hit back. It made him feel less of a freak accident. He had an equal, maybe even a superior. He looked across the room at Thor, who was making no move to come at him again. Was the god tired? They had fought more in the battle against Loki. A few minutes of sparring couldn't have worn him out so fast.

Unless. Steve tilted his head to the side, examining the man in front of him. There was a slight smile tugging at Thor's lips, and there was a softness in his eyes that the exertion hadn't be able to erase. Thor had never provoked Steve before, and it wasn't common for immortal beings to drastically change overnight. Steve offered up a smile of his own, and Thor's eyes crinkled at the corners.

A slow clap ruined the moment and both men turned to see Tony Stark standing in the doorway, watching them with a smirk firmly splayed across his lips.

"You want to lose control like that with me, Cap?" he taunted and Steve hung his head in shame. He never should've lost control, no matter how good it felt in the moment. At least he hadn't hurt Thor. Permanently anyway. The two of them would be stiff for a couple hours and maybe have a few lingering bruises tomorrow, but super healing wasn't an excuse to beat up on a fellow soldier.

Thor's slung an arm over Steve's shoulder, a clear sign that he was now under the god's protection. "You wouldn't be able to handle it," Thor said. He only relished in Tony's surprise for a moment before turning back to Steve. "We should shower. And arrange times to spar like this in the future."


End file.
